


you and me (always forever)

by potionapproachings



Series: The Domestic Life [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: I just love them a lot, M/M, it is the last day of this last year and so I wrote this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:02:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28457988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potionapproachings/pseuds/potionapproachings
Summary: Even though he’s barely past twenty-eight, his bones are starting to feel heavy and unyielding, his body a weary burden, and maybe it’s the unforeseen conjuncture of living beyond his own expectations for longevity, but Kakashi feels old.He has hurts that could fill multiple lifetimes, wounds that pierce deeper than skin and flesh and bone but as he watches the last remnants of sunset light adorn Iruka’s warm brown skin in a golden glow, the familiar shadows of his traumas are eased, lightened in this moment of time where Iruka’s handsome profile takes up his entire vision, his entire world.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka
Series: The Domestic Life [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2113026
Comments: 13
Kudos: 54





	you and me (always forever)

**Author's Note:**

> For you Javier, thank you for the inspiration, and the art  
> https://twitter.com/galactic_guards/status/1344176554692071424?s=21

The breeze is chilly and the smell of snow is in the late evening air, but all Kakashi can focus on is the warmth of Iruka’s hand carefully enclasped around his own as they walk side by side through Konoha’s winding streets.

The village night market is slowly coming to life as the sun starts to set, and as they meander from stall to stall to buy what they need for that night’s preparations, Kakashi feels a steady sort of comfort take purchase behind his ribcage, something that he cannot remember feeling for what seems like eons, decades, whole eternities.

Even though he’s barely past twenty-eight, his bones are starting to feel heavy and unyielding, his body a weary burden, and maybe it’s the unforeseen conjuncture of living beyond his own expectations for longevity, but Kakashi feels old.

He has hurts that could fill multiple lifetimes, wounds that pierce deeper than skin and flesh and bone but as he watches the last remnants of sunset light adorn Iruka’s warm brown skin in a golden glow, the familiar shadows of his traumas are eased, lightened in this moment of time where Iruka’s handsome profile takes up his entire vision, his entire world.

This thing between them is fairly new, born from mutual companionship, from enjoying meals together at the various eateries dotting Konoha’s older urban areas whenever their schedules happened to align, and swapping stories of Naruto, of the three children they had once shared before the mechanisms and schemes born out of a village that has always devoured its children and despised its orphans had so catastrophically separated them in wild, distant directions.

The dissolution of Team Seven is another shortcoming, another addition to his continuous list of failures that had served to aggravate his ever-present guilt, but talking to Iruka, seeing his smiles and hearing his laughs, had worked to soothe something in Kakashi. Almost before he had realized it, this carefully cultivated intimacy had morphed into comfortable dinners at either of their homes and their conversations had continued to expand and extend in trajectories that Kakashi normally would guard against, even with his closest friends.

Nevertheless, it was easier than he had imagined to allow himself to open up, to be a little more vulnerable with Iruka, and slowly but steadily, they had fallen increasingly entwined in each other’s lives, until they were standing at the fringe of something more.

Taking the jump - while unlike anything Kakashi ever thought he’d get to experience - felt natural and a particular rightness asserted itself in the time following their first tentative steps into this foray of a relationship, despite the harried busyness derived from their respective duties to the village and the consistent foreshadowing of a war that they all know is coming.

It is something Kakashi holds close to himself as one of the rare, precious things in his life.

As they collect the last of their supplies and turn towards the eastern ends of the now bustling marketplace to make their way back to Iruka's apartment, it finally starts to snow.

Iruka is swaddled in a layered hanten, the lining of the collars heavily padded and fitted snuggly over his broad shoulders. The coat is embroidered in twilight colours, the deep blues and purples contrasting favourably with the dark richness of his skin.

He tilts his head and catches Kakashi’s eye, cheeks lightly flushed in the surrounding cold and lips curved into a soft smile, the smile filled with fondness and quiet joy that is usually reserved for Naruto and now, for Kakashi, for Kakashi who feels an unnamed shiver of emotion spread from his chest to the rest of his being as he watches snowflakes lightly dust Iruka’s eyelashes.

With the shine of the lamplights casting a halo around the strong lines of his body, Iruka looks so ethereal that Kakashi cannot help but reach out to brush against the high arch of his cheekbone. Iruka’s smile grows into a broad grin as he nimbly captures Kakashi’s wandering fingers with his own, brushing his lips over the gloved knuckles and bursting into delighted laughter as a rosy flush spreads across the uncovered skin of Kakashi’s masked features.

“Pretty,” Iruka teases gently as he moves to press slightly chapped lips above a silky, silver eyebrow.

Kakashi takes the opportunity to wrap his hands around Iruka and pull him close against his body, skimming his nose up the slender pillar of his neck until it rests under the dip of his ear. Iruka’s hands slide around Kakashi’s waist and hold on just as tightly, and for a few moments, it is easy to imagine that the swirling snowfall is blanketing a world that holds no one else but them.

Within this brief sliver of infinity in which Kakashi holds Iruka in his arms, he feels the sweet potential of their futures coalesce like a story already written and only waiting to be told, and - despite the threats of war, the endless slew of missions, the general uncertainties of the road ahead - the gossamer flutters of hope beat against the thrumming in his chest like a bird that has been caged for far too long.

And for the first time in a long time, Kakashi lets this bird fly. He thinks of evenings drinking tea and watching the stars, Iruka’s eyes glinting in the moonlight. He thinks of the monotony of doing the dishes together, the repetitive motions a welcomed pattern and Iruka’s presence a comfort at his side. He thinks of the minutiae of a thousand different little routines, and the infusion of Iruka in all of them.

Kakashi thinks, and Kakashi hopes.

As they reluctantly untangle from their embrace, hands clasped tightly together once again, Kakashi focuses on Iruka's steady warmth as they continue on their way, the rising gusts of wind their loyal companion.


End file.
